


Beauty in the Wake of the Storm

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, Discussions of death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: S01e05 Kush, F/M, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, can be read as romantic or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 04:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30100269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: “It’s beautiful out there,” she murmured, and he fell silent. How she always did that-how she managed to find the beauty in even the darkest situations with as much ease as she found the darkness in the mundane-he didn’t know. Maybe he never would understand.Or maybe, if he was lucky, he could learn it from her.
Relationships: Helen Magnus/Will Zimmerman
Kudos: 2





	Beauty in the Wake of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm watching this show for the first time. I just finished Requiem, and am officially jumping headfirst onto this ship. What can I say? I don't usually post fanfictions so early in watching a finished show, but something in me needed them to hold hands after this episode, so here we are.

For Will, most people were open books. Details stood out to him like ink spots on pages, and he could tell with a single glance what their closest relatives didn’t know. 

But that was only most people. Helen Magnus was not most people. She would sometimes be open and expressive, but it was obviously a choice; when she wanted to hide things from him, reading her was easier said than done. Whether it was practice that came from a century and a half of survival, or simply her nature, he couldn’t be sure. (Part of him wished he could have met her back when she was young; would she have been so guarded back then?)

Yes, often, she could hide things. In such close quarters, however, it was hard to hide the tremble of her hands, the unsteadiness of her breathing. All things that could have been chalked up to the freezing cold, if not for the way she kept stealing darting glances in his direction. They were subtle, scattered, and he might not have noticed them if he’d been watching her less. So sue him; she was the only person in the room still  _ alive,  _ and the last thing he wanted to do was stare at corpses while they waited. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “You okay?” 

For a moment, it seemed like she was going to feign confusion. She blinked, turning to face him fully, and tilted her head to the side. Then, all at once, the fight seemed to drain from her. Maybe the cold was wearing on her, too. “I will be,” she said simply. 

He could have let it hang, or asked her what was wrong, but on a hunch, he waited. Watched. 

“I…” She closed her eyes, just briefly. “When I realized that the creature had taken your form, I thought-”

Realization dawned. “You thought I was dead.”

A slow nod. He thought about Ashley, about what Magnus once told him about why she chose to have her:  _ “... I could bear the loneliness no more.”  _ How much of her life did she spend alone? How many people had she buried already? 

Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face (another phenomenon unique to her; he was used to being the reader, not the book), because she gave another nod. Then, maybe to lift the heaviness, she laughed, weak and watery. “Believe me, I’ve learned how to say goodbye over the years, but… I’d rather like to wait a bit before I say goodbye to you.” 

He hadn’t fully realized that before, but it was true, wasn’t it? One day he’d be dead and gone, and she could still be out there. Just… Living. Existing. Without him, without Ashley, without Henry… Even the big guy would one day leave her behind. 

Absently, he found himself hoping that members of the Bigfoot family lived longer; maybe he could keep her company, at least.

All of this was to process later, he decided. For the moment, his priority was cheering her up. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me and my coffee for awhile.”

Her lips twitched, and some of the tension drained from her, hands settling on her lap. “Don’t be so sure; give me a few years, and I’ll convert you.”

“To tea?” He scoffed, more than happy to play along if it kept the mood this light. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Maybe, but at least I don’t drink flavored leaf water.”

“Flavored-” She sputtered, British to her bones. “Unacceptable. I will not tolerate this sort of talk from my employees, especially not one who favors... Bitter bean water _. _ ” And, well, he really should have known that would get thrown right back in his face. He didn’t mind as much as he probably should have.

Too cold and tired to keep up the argument, he chuckled. “Try saying that three times fast.” A peace offering, of sorts, and judging by her softening smile, she understood it as such. 

“At least I know for certain that it’s you.” Her tone was almost annoyed, but her eyes danced; a peace offering of her own. 

They lapsed into silence, and Will let his mind drift to the help that was on the way. Hopefully they would be there soon; he was getting tired, but he didn’t love the idea of going to sleep in a plane full of dead bodies if he didn’t absolutely have to. Besides, he’d never been a fan of the cold, and this adventure really didn’t help. 

He paused, reevaluating his earlier assessment of the woman beside him. She was less tense, certainly, and her hands were open and still. But her breathing was measured. Deliberate. Maybe she was calmer, but the events of the day were still wearing on her.

Hesitation gripped him for a long moment. Should he say something? Or just pretend he didn’t notice? His fear certainly still lingered, after all; it would be unfair to expect hers to not. 

An impulsive idea struck him, and he glanced at her. This could, he knew, go very badly. But maybe, just maybe, it would help. Besides, she’d understand his intentions; at worst, it might be a bit of an awkward wait for the others if she pulled away, but they could deal with that.

Slowly, both from second-guessing himself and from the cold stiffening his joints, he reached out, covering one of her hands with his. She went utterly still for a moment, looking down at the contact curiously. He couldn’t feel her, he noted, hand long-numb, and he wondered if she was the same. 

Then, after a long beat, she turned her hand to face upward, curling slightly around his. She smiled, looking back to the window, and he followed her gaze. 

“It’s beautiful out there,” she murmured, and he fell silent. How she always did that-how she managed to find the beauty in even the darkest situations with as much ease as she found the darkness in the mundane-he didn’t know. Maybe he never would understand. 

Or maybe, if he was lucky, he could learn it from her. 

The snow outside taunted him, reminding him that it wasn’t so long ago he’d been out in it, terrified of freezing to death. It fell steadily, and he could hardly see much of anything. The spot where he’d nearly died was already covered, though, lost in the flurry surrounding them. Maybe that was enough. “Yeah. It is.”

She squeezed his hand once, and though he couldn’t feel it, he could see the movement, and he smiled. They didn’t let go until Ashley burst through the door, hugging her mother, and somehow scolding him for the weather. 

Just another day at the office, then. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
